Chapter Text
“Uh,” Soap tries his best to not choke on air, his emotions manifesting physically just to torture him, “why your room?”
Ghost gives him a look over his shoulder in response to his comment, eyes screaming ‘really?’ Like Soap was the insane one here, not him. Maybe Soap was though, it kinda felt like it. If Ghost’s hand on his wrist wasn’t so grounding he was sure he’d be a puddle of his own emotions on the floor.
With no outlet for his feelings, at least not an outlet he allowed himself to engage in, Soap could only focus on the way Ghost’s hand curled around his wrist, warm fingers tapping on his pulse point, chasing away any lingering cold in his body from being outside. He hoped that Ghost couldn’t feel how fast his heart was beating, practically about to beat right out of his chest at this point. If he felt anything, he, thankfully, chose not to comment on it.
“The kitchen is full of late-night snackers, the recreation room is never empty and the med bay is likely a mess neither of us want to get into at this time of night. Unless you want to go to your room, my room is the next best option to clean up that ‘scratch’ of yours.”
It made sense, Ghost liked to be alone, liked to do things as far away from the eyes of others if possible and his room allowed him to fulfil all of that criteria. Maybe Soap was overthinking things again. He was stunned at the prospect of being allowed to see the space that Ghost spent most of his time in when off of missions and not training; he felt honoured enough that a private person like Ghost trusted him enough to let him into his room, after all, only Price has ever been in there and that was likely only because he’d known Ghost for so long.
Ghost’s lack of movement dragged Soap out of his thoughts. They’d stopped outside of Ghost’s door and Ghost himself was looking over his shoulder at Soap.
“Back with us?” Ghost teased, “I took you to my room since you said nothing, we can still go to yours if you want.”
Soap felt his face heat and prayed it wasn’t obvious. “No, your room is fine L.t.”
Ghost gave Soap another look and turned to unlock his door, dropping Soap’s wrist to twist the doorknob.
Not leaving Soap feeling cold again for long Ghost grabbed his shoulder instead, steering Soap ahead of him into his room, shutting the door behind him and gently nudging Soap into the bathroom.
“Sit on the vanity, it’ll be easier for both of us that way.”
Soap mechanically moved to do what Ghost said as Ghost crouched to look through the vanity’s drawers. Soap was preoccupied, taking in Ghost’s room through the bathroom door, his mind spinning.
Ghost’s small room lacked anything personal. He had his military regulation bed pushed up into the corner of his room away from the single window, the sheets messy and crooked. On his bedside table there was a pistol and a few books stacked on top of each other, the titles too far away for Soap to read. Other than those small things that clarified that someone lived here, Ghost’s room was empty. His bathroom, however, told a different story.
The mirror behind Soap was cracked and dirty, some shards missing entirely. On the counter next to Soap sat multiple different bottles of pills, in some of the bottles that were missing a lid Soap could recognise the little pills inside as painkillers, each bottle a differing level of strength. It didn’t escape Soap that the strongest bottles of painkillers had the least amount of pills in them but it wasn’t like he didn’t understand.
Ghost stood up and dropped a first aid kit next to Soap, already rummaging through it and pulling out alcohol wipes.
“Really L.t.?” Soap raised an eyebrow. “Pullin’ out an entire kit jus’ for a scratch?”
“Yes,” Ghost ripped open the packaging on the wipes, “unlike you I want to be careful. Who knows where the hands of those recruits could’ve been”
Soap snorted, the sheer absurdity of the situation overriding his anxiousness, “I crawled through tunnels with a bullet wound and came out infection free. I think I’ll be fine.”
“Too late now Johnny,” Ghost shook the alcohol wipe mockingly, “gotta use it now.”
Soap’s anxiousness came back full force as Ghost moved to stand in between his thighs, his hand moving towards his face with the alcohol wipe, lightly brushing it over the cut on Soap’s face. Soap almost wheezed as the air in his lungs left him all at once, too terrified to move even an inch in case he brushed up against Ghost’s legs or the hand on his face.
Sitting on the vanity, Soap was at eye level with Ghost. He couldn’t look away from the other man’s eyes focused intently on Soap’s face. He’d never really noticed just how brown Ghost’s eyes were, hysterically Soap thought that they reminded him of a small forest he used to go to as a teenager when he needed an escape from his deafening thoughts, Ghost’s eyes were the same shade of brown as the trees there, the terrible realisation only made him love him even more.
“Alright,” Ghost says looking into Soap’s eyes, his hand dropping and his voice quiet, “it’s clean.”
Soap swallows, his heart yearning for something he didn’t think he’d ever be allowed to have, “Ghost-“
“Simon.”
Soap’s breath catches, eyebrows furrowing.
Ghost, catching his confusion, huffs a little, “Call me Simon.”
Simon, Soap repeats in his head dizzily, every other thought that was racing through his mind only a few seconds ago now suspiciously absent, leaving only Simon behind.
“Simon.” Soap tested out, “Simon.“ nothing had ever felt so right to say.
“Johnny.”
“Simon I…” his hands moved on their own, resting the edge of Simon’s balaclava, “can I?”
Without answering, Simon reaches up to hold the back of Soap’s hand, guiding Soap to take off the mask.
He’d seen his face before but Soap thought that he’d never stop being struck breathless at how beautiful Simon was. He couldn’t stop himself from smiling wide, his free hand moving to cup Simon’s face delicately.
“Hi.” Soap murmurs, taking in Simon for the first time, not just Ghost.
“Hi.” Simon replies, eyes full of adoration and something more.
“Can I?” Soap asks for the second time that night, leaning closer but still leaving room for Simon to back out, his heart twisting in nervous anticipation and hope.
“Yes,” whispers Simon and Soap closes the distance, kissing Simon softer and sweeter than he ever thought he could be capable of.
Simon entangles their hands together properly, dropping the balaclava on the floor between them. The sheer sweetness of the moment strikes Soap. Simon is so warm against him, a bright comfort against Soap’s cold anxiousness and fear.
Simon pulls back first, resting his forehead against Soap’s and gazing tenderly into Soap’s eyes.
“Stay?” Says Simon, worrying his bottom lip.
Soap smiles lovingly, leaning forward and kissing him gently on the forehead, “Always.”